


Strike

by kaizoku



Series: Summer Pornathon 2013 [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Femdom, Het, Spies & Secret Agents, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Sex, hints of Arthur/Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaizoku/pseuds/kaizoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What makes Morgana so dangerous? And why does Merlin keep going to her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strike

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge 6 of Summer Pornathon 2013: Light and Dark

Merlin doesn't move as Morgana circles him like an animal. He thinks she wants it to be threatening, but it makes him think of something untamed and skittish. He waits, just breathing, and she brings him to his knees at last, one hand in his hair.

"What do you have for me, Merlin?" Morgana asks, bending his head up to her.

"Information," he says.

"Good."

He lets her bear him down with her weight, her skirts pooling around them. His fingers gouge the dirt as Morgana undoes his tunic, spreads it. Her eyes are cold on his chest, as if she can look right into his heart. She looks hungry.

Reluctantly, Merlin tells her. The kingdom is in a drought, the king plans to move grain reserves, there are threats from within and without...

"I know all of this," Morgana says, drawing patterns, symbols on his skin.

He swallows, dry-mouthed. "What-"

"You're useless," she says, pinching his nipple hard, digging in with her nail. "I need to know when Arthur plans to strike."

"Strike?" Merlin gasps.

"When he will come for me. I'm sure you've told him where I live." She stares at him like a snake.

"No, my lady." He hasn't. "I am yours."

Morgana pets him, his trembling stomach vulnerable before her. She has a dagger that could slice him open if she wished. But instead she leans down and kisses him, warm and wet, and he remembers that she is a girl, too.

She sucks his bottom lip and Merlin lets his hands travel up to her waist, following the way her hips circle, grinding herself down against him. He slides one hand around her arse, presses his thumb in where she needs it most.

"I believe you, I don't know why," Morgana says, pressing their foreheads together as she rocks. "I know you were loyal to Arthur before, but even you must see what he is now, how he puts his own fear and hate before the well-being of his people."

"He's blind," Merlin agrees. "He can't see - ah! - what's right in front of him."

Morgana sits back suddenly and Merlin wonders if he has said something wrong, but she's undoing his laces, jerking them roughly. Her fingers are calloused. Perhaps she has taken up her sword practice out here in the woods.

He tries to think of a question, something innocent, but all his attention is on Morgana working him with long strokes, and the fluid collecting at his slit, and then she licks the head, licks that bead of moisture and he's not thinking at all.

"Please," Merlin begs. He needs something to take back with him.

"Oh, you sweet boy," Morgana says when she has him, all of him, in her cunt. 

Merlin jerks his hips up, desperate, and Morgana presses him back down, her face intent, her hair swinging wild and dark like a curtain between them.

"Yes, be strong for me. I want to feel it tomorrow."

It's a war and Merlin is using all his strength, fighting back against her weight and her control over him. He thinks about turning them over, pressing Morgana back in the dirt, rearing over her, fucking her, killing her, but he won't.

She rakes his chest with sharp nails and his breath punches out of him, and he comes explosively, thrusting up, up, helplessly into the tight clench of her.

Morgana keeps riding him until he's pushing her away and she laughs, guiding his hand down to slick through her wetness and his come leaking between her thighs.

"Did you...?" Merlin asks.

"No," Morgana says, "But it doesn't matter." She curls up, resting her head on his chest, and Merlin wraps his arms around her, feeling their hearts beating almost in time. The air is thrumming with their magic.

"You're the only one I have left," Morgana whispers. Her lips sweep against his skin, light as a butterfly.

* * *

"So?" Arthur asks. It's morning, too early for Arthur to already be dressed and scowling when Merlin comes in.

"Nothing of import."

"Did you find out _anything_?"

"She's beaten down, sire. None of her plans have worked, she's alone, living in a hovel, probably cold and hungry most of the time."

"Or that's what she wants us to think."

Arthur paces, hands fisted, back tight with tension.

Merlin rolls his eyes. Arthur catches him. He yanks him forward by his neckerchief and Merlin chokes, then holds his breath when he realises how close they are. Arthur's eyes are flashing, blue and bright in the first rays of sunlight.   


"Merlin," he says, and Merlin can feel the rumble of Arthur's voice in his chest. "This is dangerous."

"I know."

"Be careful." Arthur releases him. Merlin sighs, relieved. Disappointed.

"Morgana can't do anything to me."

And that. That's the lie.


End file.
